Close Call
by dart53
Summary: Anyone can be in the wrong place at the wrong time.


The knot on his forehead throbbed. So did the split in his lip… So did his belly where they'd used their fists on him… So did his shoulders and wrists. Being handcuffed and worked over by the local police and then left in a cell overnight did that.

He twisted and groped with his hands until he had one of the cuffs in his grip. He fiddled with it until it felt right and then squeezed as hard as he could. When he felt the slight give he twisted it just a hair. The left cuff popped loose and he brought his hands around to the front of his body with a groan. For a moment he just sat on the cot and let the blood run back into his arms then he started massaging the sore shoulders. His finger caught in the tear where the sleeve met the front of his jacket. He didn't know how but someone was going to pay for that.

Pushing up to his feet he walked to the front of the cell and stood listening. Nothing. He checked the lock on the door. It looked easy enough but he didn't have the equipment to work on it. He didn't think he'd need it here in England.

Even if he got out, where would he go? Back to the mansion? They'd just come out there and pick him up again. Until he proved to them he wasn't their man, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

He went and sat down on the cot and leaned back against the stone wall and closed his eyes. What a mess.

They said someone picked the lock on the back door. It was in his records that he knew how to do that. They had a description that fit him. …And he didn't have anyone to support his claim for where he was. Walking alone in a park in the middle of the night wasn't a very good thing to be doing when young women were getting raped.

Anyone that knew him knew he would never do anything like that. At least he hoped they did. But the local cops didn't know him. They knew the girl though. She was local too. That's why the handling he got was a little more than just rough. Apparently they took care of their own down here.

He leaned forward and massaged around the knot in his leg where he'd been kicked for a while and then switched to kneading the area over his right kidney. They had his records so why wasn't someone down here to bail him out? They had to know where he was. Maybe it was still too early. There was no window back here and they'd taken his watch, along with everything he had in his pockets…and his shoes. Maybe someone had just gotten through to records and no one else knew. That wasn't right. His records were classified. Someone had to give permission for access to the records for that background check the cops ran. Someone knew, they were just letting him sit and stew for a while…. Or they'd written him off.

Bar brawls. Petty theft. Car crashes. Gambling. Off hour drinking. The Army took care of the trouble they got into. Anyone picked up for that was taken away from the locals and put in the stockade…Or disciplined by their own commander…which usually worked out to be worse than anything the locals could manage. Murderers? Rapists? The Army didn't want anything to do with those. Maybe no one was coming.

There was a rattle outside the door to the small cellblock. He pushed off the cot and went to stand at the bars at the front of the cell. The door opened and the lights were flipped on. The knot on his forehead increased its throbbing. He watched as two men approached and stood on the other side of the bars. He concentrated on the one in the military uniform.

"It's about time."

The police officer waved him back. He took a moment before he took one step back. The key was fitted and turned and the door swung open. He waited another moment before he stepped through. Taking up a position just off his superior's right shoulder he followed as the man led him back out into the room the locals used for an office. They stopped in front of a desk.

The police officer sitting behind the desk glared up at him and then lifted a manila envelope and poured the contents out across the desk top.

"Check this lot and make sure everything's there." He slapped a pen on a paper and shoved it his direction. "Then sign this."

He sorted through the items on the desk, opened his wallet and thumbed through counting the cash, then flipped the band of his watch around his wrist and buckled it on.

"My shoes."

The policeman leaned down and picked up a pair and handed them across the desk.

He considered just slipping them on so they could get the hell out of here, but he didn't want the sound of untied shoelaces following him down the hall when he left. Uninvited he sat on the chair that faced the desk and took his time. When his shoes were tied he stood up and faced the police officer…the man was still glaring at him.

"You had enough to say last night, sergeant. Cat got your tongue this morning?"

The officer to his left cleared his throat. "Don't press your luck," he advised.

He watched as the two officers parted with the barest of nods, then followed that right shoulder out of the station and into the early morning light.

The correct direction was indicated with a lift of a chin and they started down the street towards a staff car.

"You know I'd never do…"

"I know."

They arrived at the car. He went to the passenger side and looked over the top of the car.

"Why'd they turn me over to you? Did they find the man that did it?"

The eyes that met his considered him for a moment. "There was no one…"

The man slipped into the car and he followed. He turned in the seat and waited for the rest of the story.

"There's a boyfriend. They were in her room together…" The other man fitted the key in the ignition and started the car. "Her father came in early from work and she panicked." He turned and studied the man sitting next to him. "Apparently she saw you walking in the park when she was shoving the young man out the window."

He turned and leaned back against the seat. Taking a deep breath he held it a moment before letting it go. The tension stayed in his shoulders.

"It's a little early but you look like you could use a drink. What do you say we stop at the pub on the way back, Lieutenant?"

"Colonel Reynolds, I'd say that's an excellent idea."


End file.
